Two pairs of slippers left unworn at the doorstep:
the white ones, looking like a woman's feet with floral prints
carved on its straps.
They appeared like two lonely lovers
one head tilted over the other or perhaps,
a man kissed by his lady
the black ones, with strong etched lines on the soles resembling
that of a dinosaur's backbone were wedged two feet away from each other
as if protecting the white pair of slippers-
the other foot stepped forward in a slant position
with its tip touching the edge of the molave door
when the wind knocked the door closed,
it dragged the black slipper away from its lover
they seemed like a frozen journey of footsteps—
the way my husband left me for a girl.
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